Charcoal Soul
by Ithinkyoullknxw
Summary: It didn't stop the dreams though. Every night. The memories of what she'd left behind, who she'd left behind. Why.
1. Chapter 1

**_She wears all black, like her soul. Yet her heart is made of gold._**

 _Prologue_

She didn't realise how easy disappearing would be. Gone without a trace. She laughed bitterly at that thought. Who would have cared enough to find her anyway? Her estranged ex husband, her loved up brother or her disgusted best mate. She wasn't sure which was most unlikely anymore. Still, she was almost glad now. Two years later and she could at least say she was getting back on track. _Her life was a mess_.

It didn't stop the dreams though. Every night. The memories of what she'd left behind, who she'd left behind. Why. _She had to do it_.

She didn't let herself think about that during the day. She couldn't, for fear of falling apart. She couldn't let herself crumble when she had someone so reliant on her. Someone who needed her to be a tower of strength so their own life didn't fall apart as well. _The only thing keeping her fighting_.

Speak of the devil.

Carla leaned down with a warm smile to scoop up her daughter, her hair dark like both her parents and eyes brown pools of love just like her father's. She could get lost in those eyes. They had always been her weak point. _Now they always would be_.

She hated herself for the pain she knew she had left behind. But she knew every time she looked into her daughters precious eyes that she had made the right choice. The life she had built for them after leaving the street hadn't been everything she had dreamed off, how could it be? Her baby girl growing up without the father that would be painfully missing her endlessly. _Maybe he deserved it._

At least she had Marc now. He wasn't enough to fill the void in her heart but he was all she had right now. He would keep her safe, he'd been fiercely protective of her since she met him and she figured that could only be a positive. He had money and a beautiful home for her daughter to grow in. That was what mattered, wasn't it? _Ignore it Carla. Ignore the way he reminds you of your ex lover, rapist._

Because really, what use was she to her daughter if she was in prison?


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks so much for the reviews! I realised the name of Carlas partner in this is the same as in another writer's story so that's been changed. Thanks again :)_

You lay beside your daughter as she has finally settled into a sleep and softly play with her hair. The bruises on your arms remind you of memories you had begged to forget. You think of what you have left behind and it feels like a puncture wound to the heart. You wonder if he would love you and hold you and he'd know exactly what to say and what not to say and how to touch you and how not to touch you and how to love you.

Except he wouldn't. Because he didn't love you. At least not enough to commit, even for one day. And you think that hurts more than the relentless attacks that are reigned on you but not quite as much as the sound of your daughter calling out in her sleep. Nightmares. Monsters. But her monsters aren't under her bed. They're in yours.

You think you are a mess. You have always thought you'd been a mess but this mess was more of a mess than any other mess before. Mess mess mess. The word tumbles around your brain after he had called you it and you can't seem to escape it. You don't want to be a mess. You want to be you again except that you are not exactly sure who you is and you don't know if you ever have. You know that Peter's arms felt like home and you felt human again and that he gave you a sense of belonging.

Now you don't belong at all.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway pulls Carla from her thoughts and she holds a breath as she hears them pause outside Taylor's room and doesn't release it until she hears James walk into their own bedroom and shut the door. Carla cuddles into her sleeping daughters form, depite being less than two years old, Taylor's breathing could settle her from almost anything. Without her, she wasn't sure how she would have coped, if at all.

Carla knew she faced another sleepless night curled up in her daughters single bed. She also knew tomorrow James would apologise over and over again, kissing her, telling her how sorry he was and how much he loved her. The thought made her want to throw up all over again.

She knew tomorrow she'd have to crawl out of bed, sore all over. She have to pretend she forgave him and that she wasn't just staying with him because what else could she do? She couldn't leave with a baby girl and no job or home. Technically she wasn't even on the run from the police but it didn't stop her looking over her shoulder every two minutes. Sometimes she wished she could go home but it was far too late for that. So she'd do what she had to do. Because this was her life now. This was all she had left.

The days felt darker and longer than they ever had before recently. The nights felt worse. They swallowed her up. Nightmares ate away at the small amounts of sleep she did manage to grab and sometimes she found herself thankful for a reason to sleep in with Taylor. Holding her daughters hand and falling into a light slumber made her life feel less lonely.

Carla didn't realise she had been crying until she felt wet on her pilows. She wiped her eyes quickly, almost angrily. How did she let this happen? Sometimes she had stared at the bottles of pills in their bathroom cupboard and spent hours debating why not? Wasn't escape what she craved? But as soon she would convinced herself to let go, her tiny daughter would toddle up and mumble mumma and she'd realise all over again why she was still fighting.

Taylor looked just like Peter and yet just like Carla all at once. Raven dark hair and endlessly deep brown eyes. She was feisty and loud but calm and timid. And in some ways, like neither of them at all. She loved to be read to over and over, even if she could barely understand half the words and craved love and affection always. Carla had no problems at giving her that. Giving her constant love and receiving it in return. It made her heart flip when Taylor called her mum and smiled up at her. It made her feel human again.

* * *

Michelle rang the buzzer of Peters flat with a sigh, pulling her coat around her and headed up the stairs as he let her in. She put her bag down on the table, relaxed in his presence after spending so much time with him in the last two years.

"How you doing today?"

Peter shrugged and sat back down on the sofa, "Same old, I guess. Still with a missing wife, still with a missing child, still no life, still a mess. Sum it up?" Michelle rolled her eyes as she sat down at the table, "Bad day I take it." She was used to Peter's moods now. Truth be told, both their lives had been turned upside down since Carla had disappeared and neither of them had been able to recover as easily as they thought.

They hadn't stopped looking. They hadn't been able to. Peter had fallen apart and almost drunk himself to death in the first few months. Wondering what she was doing, where she was. Had she had their baby? Was it a boy or a girl? Had she kept it?

Michelle thought she'd be able to put everything aside. She'd lost a lot of people and she'd managed to survive. But the not knowing almost killed her too.

Carla and Michelle had a lot of secrets. Secrets that no one else could ever find out. With Carla gone, Michelle struggled to keep everything together. So they never stopped, never gave up.

Fibally, it looked like their luck might be changing.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter sighed, hardly listening to what Michelle had to say. They'd been looking and looking to no prevail and they'd had so many leads that led to dead ends he never dared get his hopes up. Honestly, he had no idea where she was anymore. He couldn't even begin to think of what he'd say if he found her. He did know, however, that he would do anything to hold her again. To breathe in the familiar scent and feel home again. Every night before he slept, he read the letter she had left him. It broke his heart because there was no anger. She didn't tell him she hated him or how she never wanted to see him again, she simply told him she loved him. She wrote how he made her feel alive and fixed her broken heart, ignoring the fact he had then broke it worse than before. She told him he should move on, let her go. But he knew Carla and he hoped she didn't think it would be that easy.

Had she moved on? Was she tucked up happily in bed at night with someone better than Peter in everyway? Would he love her and his child, playing happy families with Peter's Carla and their child? The thought tore him up. Carla was his, he was hers. They were soul mates, she had always said. So why did she leave? Because when she had, she'd take part of him with her.

"Peter are you listening to me?" Peter looked up with a nod, "Yes love, sorry. World of my own." He sighed sadly.

Michelle nodded, "right so I was saying about this factory I've found near London. The websites just been done up and that, all fancy."

Peter looked uninterested, he was used to this now. Michelle would find something new every week and it never led anywhere. He began thinking it never would. "So what, has it got 'run by Carla Connor' on it or summit? Come on Michelle, we've been here before."

Michelle frowned at him, rolling her eyes. She was sick of Peter's lack of hope. Didn't he understand? Hope was all they had left. It had been so long, they were almost beginning to forget the sound of her voice. The way her eyes twinkled when she gave a cheeky smile and her nervous little habits. Fiddling with her bracelet, poking her tongue around her cheek. Almost, but not quite.  
"No, Peter. It's run by some fella named James Thompson. But.. guess who manages the place?"

Peter shrugged, "I don't know Michelle but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"Michelle. Michelle Donovan."

That soon got his attention.

* * *

Carla, or Michelle as she was known as in this life, piled on make up as she sat in the empty bedroom of her house. Well, his house. It wasn't hers. It wasn't theirs. She wasn't his, she never had been and she never would be. She had taken his opportunity to let her stay at home and he would manage the place for the day. She couldn't face the looks and pretending she was okay.

Carla was so sick of pretending. Sick of the way he said her name that wasnt really her name and how it made her feel. The memories it brought back. It was slowly killing her. Looking in the mirror, Carla had to force back her tears. To look at, she was Carla. She looked just the same. Dark hair, green eyes. Broken and bruised. But the inside, she was a different person. She was lost, never quite the same since that fateful day. It ate her up endlessly, tormenting her. That was why she stayed. Because she deserved it.

This was her life now, she only had herself to blame. That was what she told herself whenever she saw her partners eyes darken, ready to explode. She deserved it.

What Carla didn't deserve was the little angel playing in the room next door. She knew she wasnt fit to be her mother, she knew she had been blessed with the most precious little girl and she wasn't sure why. But she tried everyday to be the mum she needed. She gave her endless amounts of love and told the tiny tot how special she was every day. She really, really tried.

Her phone ringing next to her startled Carla and after taking a deep, nervous breath, she answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hi babe. How's things at home?" His voice made her stomach flip, and not in the way it should.

"Yeah we're all good. Just going to take Tay to the park." She was so good at pretending to be okay, years of practice made sure.

"That'll be fun. I'm just on lunch break so thought I'd give my girls a call. Oh, someone phoned for you earlier. She said she'd call back another time." James sounded intrigued but Carla new he was suspicious.

"Oh really, was it a client or summit?"

"She said she'd know who she was. Said her name was Michelle. Michelle Connor."


	4. Chapter 4

Carla hadn't been able to get Michelle's face out of her mind for the last few days. She'd never forgotten her but her beautiful best friend now seemed closer than ever. She couldn't quite fathom the fact that Michelle had not given up on her. She'd kept looking and looking until she'd found her. And now she had, she knew Michelle would never leave this be until she had Carla with her. At least that's what she hoped.

She wondered how Michelle had coped in her absence. Sometimes she used phone the factory just to hear Michelle answer and feel safe in the familiarity of it. But soon Michelle had cottoned on and would whisper her name down the phone as though some how she could reach to her through the phone line, her voice so gentle, so comforting it almost killed Carla. She stopped phoning after that.

Michelle had always been strong but sometimes Carla worried she'd have crumbled under the weight of their secret. She was a good person but Carla also knew that deep down, she was a Connor and that meant she'd fight til death to save those she loved. To save Carla. So her secret was safe with her, even if Carla herself wasn't safe.

Carla or rather Michelle these days, because who else's name would she have used, hated days like this. When James would insist she took time for herself, sending Taylor off to his mother's for the night as though he somehow had some rights over her and then heading off to work the next day, leaving Carla alone with her thoughts that tormented her.

She lays in bed, awake from the moment he leaves for work because then she can finally breathe again. Sometimes she imagines packing a bag. She imagines throwing everything into a few suitcases, collecting her daughter and getting on the first train to Manchester. Getting away from the misery and back to those she had always longed to be with. But she couldn't. Because guilt would eat her alive. And because she didn't deserve the happiness.

A knock at the door startles Carla from her thoughts and wrapping her dressing gown around her, Carla sighs and looks in the mirror quickly. With no way to hide her new split lip, she doesn't even bother and instead heads carefully down the stairs to avoiding even more bruises and opens the door. She hurries though because she thinks it'll be her little girl and the thought makes Carla's heart stop crying for just a moment.

"Carla?"

All at once, everything seems to fall apart and yet fall into place. Carla can't breathe for relief and fear and desperation. She thinks Michelle will be angry at her but her eyes look so longing, so soft, she is scared to fall apart. "Or do I call you Michelle now?" Maybe she's not angry but she's sure as hell hurting.

Carla steps aside to let her in, her eyes scouting for anyone that might be watching before quickly shutting the door.

"How did you find me?" They make their way to the sofa and at Carla's words, Michelle is so relieved to hear that she sounds exactly the same as she always has done. It feels like a weight has been lifted and yet she feels no better.

"What happened to your face?" She doesn't answer her question and Carla shrugs as she hides the way she winces as she sits, "Caught it on a door."

Michelle almost laughs, shaking her head as she pulls on Carla's robe, revealing black and blue bruises across her ribs, "What about those? Fall into a table? Trip on a heel and fall down the stairs?"

Carla just pulls her robe back around her quickly and looks away, she's embarrassed and Michelle knows it. "Car' what's happened to you? Where 'ave you been? I've missed you so much." Finally Carla looks back to her best friend and sees tears in her eyes. "'Chelle-" their conversation is cut short by a sharp knock at the door and Carla's head snaps around, "Michelle go upstairs."

Carla jumps up and Michelle frowns, "What?!"

"Just go upstairs!" Carla raises her voice and Michelle shakes her head in disbelief before doing as she's told. She listens by the hall but she can't quite hear who is at the door and suddenly she is a bit scared. Whoever Carla is involved with is obviously dangerous and now they could both be in trouble.

Eventually she hears the door shutting and slowly she makes her way back down. She pauses as she stands by the living room door and watches Carla clearly take comfort from the small child she is holding. The little girl she is cradling is so much like Carla it almost takes her breath away and Michelle can't help a small smile from tracing her lips as Carla kisses her daughters head and tells her how much she has missed her.

As Michelle makes her way back in, Carla looks up at her and throws her a tiny smile, "Taylor baby, this is Mummy's best friend. Remember mummy told you about where she used to live?" She pushes back her baby's hair, knowing full well her almost one and a half year old child would have no clue what she was talking about, "Well this is your auntie Chelle. And you're gonna love her as much as I do, darlin'"

Michelle sinks into the sofa with them, closer than before, and watches the small girl with intrigue, smiling back at Taylor as she smiles at the strange lady in her house. Michelle gently strokes Taylor's little hand, almost memorised before looking back to Carla, "So she's...?"

Carla nods quickly as she let's Taylor climb down and toddle off to find some toys, "She's Peter's."

"Why did you run away Carla? Why did you leave like that?"

Carla watches her daughter playing with a dolly in a pushchair as she shrugs, "I 'ad to, Michelle. I were suffocating, it were falling apart."

"And you couldn't even say goodbye? Couldn't tell us where you were going? We've being out of our minds for the last two years, Carla. Every single day we've been looking for you. Peter-" Michelle sighed as she thought, "He almost ended up in the ground and I weren't far behind him."

Carla's head shot up, "Is he okay?" It didn't take a genius to work out it was eating Carla alive just as much.

Michelle shook her head, "No. It's killing him, not knowing where you were, if you were safe. He didn't even know if you'd kept the baby, Carla. Even if it were a boy or a girl."

Carla watched Taylor again now, "I always tell her about 'im. About her real daddy. She's just like him."

"She's just like you 'an all." Michelle nodded as she watched the dark hair girl grin up at her mother.

"So who is playing doting father and wife beater then Carla?" She plays it blunt because she knows it's the only way to ever get through to her.

"James. He was good to start with, kind. Too kind."

"Yeah well he reminded me a bit too much of Frank for my liking."

Carla's head shot up, "You've met him?"

Michelle nodded, "Don't worry, he doesn't know who I am. Pretended I were a client for the factory. I needed a way to get in, get a sneak at his staffs files. Find your address."

A hint of a smirk danced on Carla's face, "Resourceful."

"I learnt from the best, didn't I."

The two friends shared a smile before seriousness took over, "Come home, Carla. Come back with me."

Before Carla could speak, a key in the door turned and everything seemed to freeze.


End file.
